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GIORDANO 



^ STrajietrj?, 



BY JAMES' LAWSON, 

AUTHOR OF '= TALES AND SKETCHES," «fcc. 



■ Aceipe nunc insidiag-"^yir4 



xVEW-YORK : 
E. B. CLAYTON— G. & C. & H. CARVILL. 

1832. 






J 



Entered according to Act of Congress, in llie year 1832, by Clayton k. Van Nordcn, in 
the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the Southern District of New-Yotk. 



/iO^ 



^fEW-YOKK : 

CLAYTON i< VAN NORDEN, PRINTERS, 
i\o. H) Williani-strcct. 



PROSPER MONTGOMERY WETMORE, 

AS A RECORD OF HIS WORTH, 
AS A TRIBUTE TO HIS GENIUS; 

AN P. 
AS A TOKEN OF ESTEEM, 

Tins TRAGEDY IS INSCRIBED, 

BY HIS FRIEND, 

TOE AUTHOR. 



PROLOGUE. 

BY WILLIAM LEGGETT. 

SPOKEN BY MR. BARRV. 

To rouse each slumbering passiou of the breast, 
Bid cowering guilt his hideous form detest, 
Add grace to gooduess, energy to truth, 
Ardour to age, and thoughtfulnoss to youth. 
With guileless mirth the ills of life t' assuage, 
For these did Wisdom first erect the Stage. 

There, breathless Wonder, with dilated eyes, 
Saw the pale shades of former ages rise- 
Caught from the hero's glance a kindred glow. 
Or mourned with real tears dissembled wo ; 
With shuddering awe, heard mad Ambition own 
The crimes that raised him to his tottering throne ; 
And learned that power, achieved by guilty deed, 
Decks with false glare the head it dooms to bleed- 
As the red Hames which burning domes illume. 
Mock what they gild, and whilst they light, consume. 

True to the purpose of the scenic page. 
An untried bard this night employs the stage ; 
From no wild tale of necromantic sprite 
He draws the scene, to charm your dazzled sight, 
But boldly copies nature's mazy chart 
Of vice and virtue, to instruct the heart. 



Here learn Avliat terrors rack Guilt's throbbing breast, 
And pale iiis cheek, though fortune light his crest • 
What generous ardor glows in honor's form, 
Great in the calm, and greater in the storm. 

Such are the scones our l)ard presents to view, 
And trembling trusts to nature and to yoxi. 
Mar uot his hope — be candid, yet be just ; 
Praise where you ought, blame only where you must. 



DRAMATIS PERSONiE, 

As Jirsl perfumed at the Park Theatre, Kew-York, Kovtmhcr, 1828. 



Duke of Flokekce, Mr. Phillips. 

CoLONNi, his Son, - - Mr. Ritchings. 

Giordano, Mr. Barry. 

Go-s-B.AT>iv'E,in lovt with Imelda, • Mr. Simpson. 

Maniri, i Mr. Porter. 

> Senators. „ 

Cavilido, S - Mr.T.Placide. 

JSEni,Captainof Guards, and friend of Giordatio, Mr. WoodhuU. 

Cosmo, Chief of the Outlaw Compirators, - - Mr. Nexsen. 

Imelda, daughter of the Duke, Mrs. Hilson. 

Bella, her Attendant, Mrs. Wallack. 

Senators, Officers, Soldiers, Citizens, Conspirators, a Jailer, 
Attendants, ^c. 

Scene— FLORENCE. 



G ! OR DANG. 



ACT I. 



SCENE!. The Palace. A flourish. Enter fhrI>VKK,Co- 
LONNi, Maniri, Caviltdo, and AUcndanfs: Ihcn enter an 
Usher. 

Usher. IIrre's one withonl, nnd newly from tbe ramp, 
Who seems of rank ; he j>iays your royal grace, 
Will grant him audience. 

Duhc. IVul him I.efore ns. [T^.nV Usher. 

He brings ns tidings of a joyons note — 
The last despatches from onr loyal chief, 
The brave Giordano, told that with the foe 
He was on eve of battle. 

Col. He is one, 

My liege and flither, worthy of all love. 

o 



10 GIORDANO. Aril. 

Re-enter Usher, and an Officer. 

Di/.he. WImt tidings, captain, biing yon from the camp? 

Offi. Onr nol>]e general lias mot the foe, 
And victory peicli'd npon his tempered sliield : 
f»at these despatches will inform yonr grace, 
Of more than my poor knowledge can cxj)!ain. 

Duke. We love the herald of snch happy news, 
And shall anon reqnite hinj. 

Man. Say, good Captain, 
TTow stood yoiing Conradine the sliocic of haltle? 

Ojfi. Like one, whose training for an aire had been, 
Amidst the din of war: he hravely fuuglir. 
And veterans yield him well d(;served praise. 

Man. Tiien is a donhle victory achieved ! 

JJiiJcr. This adds new histrc to onr com)tr\"s fame. 
(»iordano, pride and glory of ihe realm, 
Has tamed the hanghty foe: hcrf^in he sj)eriks 
With most becoming modesly, and gives 
Unto each soldier of whatever degree. 
So much renown he nothing claims liimself. 
Above them all, onr Conradine is named 
In terms of special praise. Thon'it meet onr favoiu'. 
We must confer on this : — your leisure, friends. 

Flourish. Exeunt. 



Scene II. GIORDANO, 11 



SCENE IL Astrcd. Eider ^eru 

The battle's won ; Gioiilano will return 
^Vith greener laurels circled round his brow. 
lie is my cherished friend, and to his power 
Am 1 indebted lor the rank i hold, 
And thereibre 1 have made his cause my own — 
That noble cause, which, from his throne will hurl 
The reigning despot, and a nation free. 
lie's ignorant of his heart, but well 1 know 
He needs a spur to rouse his nature up. 
That I w ill be : — fust, for my love to him ; 
And second, for the State lacks skilful hands, 
To weed the useless roots that waste its sap. 
But jnore than all, revenge will then be mine ; — 
Kevenge for wrongs which fester on my heart. 
My wife already sways us powerful friends — 
He comes, he comes ! My lord ! 

Enter (jJiordai\o. 

(rior. Neri, my friend ! 

Ncri. I give you joy upon your safe return : 
The great achievement has spread wide your fumc- 
Tiio ciiy is alive with joy, and all 



12 GIORDANO. Act I. 

Sound forth your name in terms of wondrous [)raise. 

Cfior, 'Twill do our cause some service. 

Neri. Sooth it will. 
But is it done ? Is Conradine despatched ? 

Gior. Ay ; Cosmo did his duty well. 

Neri. And thou ? 

Gio): I'm blameless as the unstained sword. 

Neri. Thank heaven ! 

Gior. The best of chances brought the headstrong fool, 
Colonni, in my way; I touch'd him on't — 
And now he's gone, wild as a wounded bear, 
Unto the Duke ;^ — nay, more, I've spared no pains 
To pass the tale from ear to greedy ear. 
A look of sorrow and a word of praise, 
Was my addition to the tale of death ; 
While, when I hinted at Maniri's plots, 
I seemed to feel all that a subject feels, 
When treason threatens to depose his liege. 

Neri. My lord, be bold in act as thou'rt in word, 
And greatness will be thine, llovv of the Duke ? 

Gior. To him olhcial notice I have sent. 
With one remembrance to his weeping daughter, 
Whom I must win — my heart inclines to her. 

Neri. All will go well. 

Gior. All shall go well. I am ! 
When saw you Cosmo's band ? 



Scene II. G I O R D A NO. 13 

Ncri. This hour, ni}^ lord : 
The gold you gave I lavished on them all, 
The which has proved thciii men of daring souli*'. 

Gior. Did they unto your reasons lend their thoughts? 

Neri. As on the issue every hope ihcy placed. 

Gior. When meet you them again ? 

Neri. At dawn of day 
We meet to-morrow in the Sibyl's cave : 
I'll then inform them all that thou hast done, 
And urge them on as our occasions need. 

Gior. Thou wilt do right. 

Ncri. There thou, my lord, must be, 
And ably use thy smooth-tongued clo<iuence, 
That, should they need a prom[)ter to the act, 
Tliou mayst inspire them all. 

Gior I will be there. 
But let us part ; I think it is not well, 
That we together meet observing eyes, 
For it might wake suspicion to our deeds. 

Ncri. My lord, do idle fears still sway thy mind ? 

Gior. I act with prudence, not with fear I'm ruled. 
But let us part: I'll straightvvith to the palace. 
And learn how all our projects prosper there ; 
A smile or tear is ready at command, 



14 GIORDANO. Act I. 

To meet each new occasion. Tliou to tiie cave : 
My tVieiid, rareueil. 

ycri. Be strong oi" heart. Farewell. [E.ta^. 

MiUiel (ilOKDAXO. 

Yes! I renieiiihcr that an eaiilet, tinice 

J''orsook his lofty eyry in the sky, 

To light upon jny head, utien hut a hoy, 

And seemed delighted with its jterching jilace. 

Then, though no taller than my sword, i vowed 

That I wonid lill the ducal throne. Old hags 

Foretold I'd ho ainhitloiis and renowned : 

Methiidis, like oracles, thOy've spoken truth. 

Now sleeps young t'onradinc, ne'er nunc to wake: 

He stootl helorc me in my hopes ol'love, 

A venonrd serpent in my path to lame j 

iJnt I ha\e crusl)ed him — and he stings no more. 

To-night Maniri by his j)upil Tails, 

Frget-l on by this audacious i'ahrication : 

Too much I feared his scrutinizing eye. — 

Thou glorious sun ! siied dow n thy golden beams, 

Shine on ! and nurse the huireis planted hcu'e, 

And make the wreath of everlasting green, 

That it may ^shadow all ilie djtard's deeds, 



Scene J II. G T O R D A N O . ] 5 

And ill lite solfsninr siiade sravl" dinklv iij> 

The son's |>rotcM?ioMs to siu-rood the sire. 

Now to the pnl.'iee; joy nwhilc reiijncd lliere 

For {)nhlir wen! — fni- private lirief, laineiit?. 

I'll moclv the time, i\\M} snii inyselfto hoih. [Tl.riL 

SCENE in. Eulcr !hc Pikf. and Coi,o\Ni. 

Dnl;i\ A day so hnupy and so hapless too, 
So fraiiiilil with strange events, was never seen. 
IMie Itatlh/s won, for tliat we a!! rejoice; 
"^rhc plot is known and that \\c. sliali snppi'ess — 
]]iit Conradine is d(>ad ! — for evei <^one ! 

CdI. This is a prologue to unrnly times: 
A hold and f[nir!s r(>solve alone preserves 
The country's salety and our honsr's r<^i<:n. 

Dull'. How \\'as't discovered f let me know t ho t inl Is. 

i'ol. (jiordano, in his Icilers iias announced, 
That !i(! liy chaMC(> .a knowledge of it gained: 
Ife has arrived, f met him hither iKiimd, 
And from him learned a history ofthe j>lof, 
^Vhich he had neither time noi- power to write: 
And my impatience has overstepped Jiis sji<>ed, 
To lay liefore your grace tlu; dark acconut. 

Duke. Uc is a nohic one. 



10 GIORDANO. ^fAci I 

Col. He is my (Vieiid. 

J)nkc. What is llie i)lot, and who are all involved? 

Col. Here comes he now, to answer for himself. 

Enter Giordaxo. 

Duke. Welcome, my lord, thon hast in soofh come well : 
First, for thou art a victor safe from war; 
And second, for thou canst unveil this plot, 
Which dares to aim against our life and throne: 
Pray as you love us, let us hear the worst. 

Gior. Maniri soars to grasp thy diadem, 
And hold despotic rule o'er all, whom thou 
More like a father than a monarch reign'st. 
With him are leagued a gang of desperate men, 
A discontented and a guilty rabble — 
Who at his nod would murder sleeping babes. 

Diikc. O, villain, villain! — Say on, I pray thee. 

(rior. The consummation of his rci>cl plot, 
ls( fixed for an imgracious hour indeed : 
'Tis, as within the holy church we j)ay 
The funeral rites to our lamented friend. 

Duke. Can this be so! 

Col. What ! have I ears ! revenge ! 

Duke. The time indeed is apt. 



Scene III. GIORDANO, 17 

Gior. From which, my Viegc, 
Tt is most certain ho foreluiowledge had 
Of this foul murder — yea, promoted it ; 
Else, had he never fixed on such a time. 

Duke. Thy tale dispels the clouds which else had liung 
Darkly above me : — all is now revealed, 
And justice shall be swift and sure. 

Col. Nay, more, — 
Revenge, my sire, shall be both swift and sure. 

Gior. Prithee, be tranquil and unfcarful — both, 
For knowledge gives us time for preparation ; 
And in the sinews of this happy realm, 
A strength immortal lives, that will, my liege, 
Crush the foul traitor in his vaunted power. 

Duke. I saw a serpent in my dream last night, 
With double head and most envenomed sting: 
Its eyes seemed brighter than two balls of fire, 
Which flashed upon me with so wild a glare, 
They tortured e'en my soul. I am an old man ; 
My blood is cold, imagination tame, 
And seldom do I conjure fancies up. 
But look on things with calm and thoughtful eye. 
Yet in this case, despite all former rule, 
1 think my better angel hovered near. 
To wake my mind against some threatened ill. 

3 



18 GIORDANO. Act I. 

Now is my dioam explained — but I shall be 
Prepared to meet the serpent, and to crush it. 

Col. 1 am prepared : speak ! let me know thy will. 

Gior. 15e calm, my friend. 

Ditkr. Who waits? I'll move with care. 

En/er an Usher. 

Vt'u\ Neri straight attend our pleasure here. [Eui/ UtiJicr, 
Gior. Deem not that I o'erstep the subject's duty ; — 

But thou, methinks, beyond the present fear, 

Seem'st strongly moved : my friend (^olonui too. 

Stop thou the treason at its fountain hea<l, 

And the polluted channels soon will dry. 
Col. TiCt not Maniri live. 

Enfer Neri. 

Duke. ITear'st thou, Neri, 
Of treason ? We shall quickly counteract 
The foul designings of tlie unholy plot. 

Neri. Command my utmost strength ; my sword, my life, 
Are at my master's service : 1 live, my liege, 
But to obey thy will. 

Gior. And all. 



Scene III. GIORDANO. 19 

Col. Ay, all. 

Duke. Arrest the traitor, drag liitii to tlie dungeon-^ 
To-morrow will tljc senate fix liis doom. 

JVm. It shall be done, my liege. 

[Exeunt CoLONNi and Neui. 

Gior. Eternal blights ! 
Why was his death not instantly decreed ! [^Aaidf.^ 
Be not desponding — all may yet be well. 

Duke. What shall we think upon this chance, or how 
Reward thy love and vigilance ; we owe 
More than our words or largess can repay. 

Gior. Nay, speak not oft : my duty I have done, 
Not more : each thought and act is thine, through me 
Obedient all, in council or in field. 
How does the fair Imelda bear her grief? 

Duke. E'en woman like. 

Gior. Alas ! my liege, for her. 
It was a chance too terrible to name. 

Duke. Grief oft delights to think, or speak of that 
Which was the source and fountain of its tears : 
And thou, niy lord, new from the camp, know'st all ; 
Thy story may alleviate her woes. 

Gior. My liege, if I can shade the picture o'er, 
That less of horrid coloring show forth, 
'Twill be a pleasing duty. 



20 GIORDANO. Act I. 

Duke. Didst thou speak ? 
We da forget ourself — so does this plot 
On our imagination fix withal, 
That we are bankrupt in each tiiought beside, 
And lack all courtesy. Good night. 

[Exit Di'KE, 

Gior. Good night. 
May dreamless be your sicc]) — that's a kind wish. 
Thus all flows well, and I shall sail to power. 
Now to Imelda: love, be thou my theme. 
Wed I the daughter, who will dare suppose 
I am a parricide ? 'Twill curtain all.— 
She's seemly to my eye, and shall be mine. 
But there's a worm that cankers in my heart — 
Dungeons have tongues, but 1 must root tiieni out ; 
First, will I win the keeper to my cause. 
Gold is an advocate of great renown— 
I'll try his all-persuasive eloquojice. ^ExU. 



SCENE IV. Imelda discovered. IJella in atieudancc. 

Imel. They tell me he is dead! dead? O, no, no! 
It cannot be — it passes all belief. 
'Twas but as yesterday I saw him here, 



Scene IV. GIORDANO. 21 

In pride and dignity, a very god 

Dwelling 'mongst men. I'll not believe the tale : 

It is a thought too big for my poor brain. 

O, gracious powers ! is this not some wild dream ! 

Some misconceit has surely turned the world 

To an outrageous frenzy. Men liear false. 

He lives! ay, he must live. Death, wouldst thou dare 

To touch with icy hand his matchless mould t 

But if 'tis so, then heaven itself must weep. 

Bel. Alas, alas ! 1 fear it is too true. 

I/nel. Were I convinced, I then should be resigned ; 
But how can I believe the dreadful tale 
Of his untimely end ? Dost thou believe 't ? 

JSel. Lady, indeed, I cannot doubt its trutli. 

Imcl. My father and my brother, what say they ? 

Bel. Fain would they doubt, but ah! it is in vain. 

Tmel. If it be true ! 

Bel. He was a matchless man. 

Imel. He was of such excelling worth, that heaven 
Might mould a million, and not make his like. 

Bel. Wo, wo ! he is no more: but, pray thee, turn 
Thy thoughts away from melancholy themes. 
Think of the living ; for there breathes the one. 
Who loves thee well, and well deserves thy love. 

Intel. O, Bella, none. 



22 GIORDANO. Act I. 

Bel. The [nidc of all the realm, 
Thy brother's friend — thy father's proudest boast : 
The brave Giiordano. 

Imel. Thou dost talk ill-timed ; 
He ne'er can fill a corner of my heart, 
For now my love and lover both arc dead. 
Tray thee, leave me. 

Eater Giordano. 

Gior. [To Bella.] Wert faithful to thy trust? 

Bel. E'en now I touched on it, but 'twas in vain. 

[Giordano motions her to iiuthdraw. Exit Bella. 

Gior. In tears ! yet I will speak to her. Iniclda ! 

Imel. 'Tis ever thus, — unwelcome i^uests appear, 
At most unwelcome seasons. What wouldst thou ? 

Gior. 1 come at an unwelcome time, 'tis true, 
But as a comforter and friend I come. 

Imel, Sj)eak on, my lord, and say what wouldst with me. 

Gior. I am so moved to see thy settled grief, 
My heart almost denies the tongue to tell 
Its feelings. 

IiHcl. Oh! 

Gior. We all should be resigned ! 
l^or what avail complaints, or sighs, or tears ! 



Scene IV. GIORDANO. 23 

Fair one, can tlicy our sad bereavement soothe, 
Or bring departed worth to us again ? 
Tears are transparent, as it were, to prove 
Their unavailingness. 

fmcl. What dost thou mean ? 
Gior. But, when a man so justly dear to all 
As Conradino expires, our better sense 
Will yield mito the heart's complaint, and live 
Awhile on sorrow : true, he is no more, — 
But there's a something which will never die, 
His fame and worth, — immortal as his soul. 

f/H(l. Thouspeak'st like one who knowswhat'listo mourn. 
Ci/'or. This, the most luckless chance that e'er befell. 
Iiiui. Indeed, indeed ! 
Gior. But who can feel thy woes ? 
Imcl. My lot, in sooth, has been a hapless one ; 
For grief, like dismal douils, has lowered on me, 
And shaded all the spring-time of my life. 

Gior. Now hope for gladness in the days to com<' ; 
For I will shield thee in these fnifhful :irms 
From every harm. 
Imel. Ah! 

Gior. Hold, I sail too fast. [^Asidc.'] 
Since thou hast lost so dear and kind a friend, 
Amidst the troubles which nlllici the slate, 



24 GIORDANO. Act L 

Thy gentle nature will require some one 
To comfort thee : and therefore I beseech, 
Thou' it let thy troubled thoughts repose on me. 

Imel, Thou speak'st ambiguously — and yet, perhaps 
'Tis kindly meant. 

Gior. Perhaps ! nay 'tis, by heaven ! 

Imcl. What wouldst thou swear ? 

Gior. I love thee. 

Imel. What is this ? — 

Gior. Yet, with such love, as might a brother love. 

Imel. Thou feign'st a grief — and in the proffer lies 
My warrant for the thought. 

Gior. If I have erred, 
(Which I did not intend,) I crave your mercy. 
Put not a strange construction on my speech. 
Which my poor tongue meant not. All T desire, 
(Both in thy private and thy public grief,) 
Is, to present my services — not more. 
l^Aside.^ Thus does my courage play the fool again. 

Imel. Strangely tiiou speak'st. 

Gior. .ludgc me by my intents. 
And thou wilt think wifh kiiiilness of my words. 
I?nel. I would it were I judged thee too severely. 

Gior. Misfortune frowns on some, and every act 
(In thought aiul feeling both as pure as truth) 



Scene IV. GIORDANO. 25 

Moved by the mutinous and rebellious blood, 
Is construed oft, dark as the thunder cloud, 
Surcharged with dire combustion — such a one 
I am. If I've ollended thee, Iinelda, 
My sole oftence is that I fondly love. 
What maid so cruel as call love a crime ? 

Imel. To what strange period does thy meaning tend ? 

Gior. Will not thine own dear heart my pleader be. 
And win me to thy favor ? While I gaze 
Upon the fashion of thy matchless form. 
The throne of beauty, innocence and worth — 
I lose all thought of grief, and i)ride of power: 
The splendor too, which overpraising friends 
For poor achievements have shed round my name, 
Beside thy brightness sinks to worthless shade. 

Imel. I will not hear thee. 

Gior. Stay, Imelda. Gone! [Exit i^iELHA. 

Eternal furies haunt her. Gone ! 

Enter Bella. 

Bel. My lord. 

Gior. Peace, woman, peace ! I'll not be questioned now. 
Thus has she left me — like a fool I seem ; 
When next I sue, 'twill be as a command. 

[^Exil Giordano. 
4 



26 ( ; I R 1) A N () , Act I. 



Re-etder Imelda. 

Imel. Has lie dopaitecl ? 

Bel. Yes, sweet lady. 

Imcl. Leave me. [Exit Bella. 

Wo's me ! scarce have my tears begun to flow, 
For the most precious flower, that ever bloomed 
In the rich garden of a maiden's love, 
And I'm besieged with ill-becoming suits. 
Away ! love, hope and happiness, farewell ! 
I'll to a cloister's gloom, there spend my days, 
And give my sorrows unobstructed sway. 

Enter Bella. 

Bd. There is a stranger waiting now without, 
Who fain would speak with thee. 

Imcl. I am not, Bella, 
In proper mood to audience strangers now. 
Whence came he ? 

Bel. From the camp. 

Imcl. Then show him to me. [Exit Bella. 

O, what am I to hear ! they come, they come — 
Was e'er .susi)ense so terrible as this ! 



Scene IV. 



GIORDANO. "il 



A pause. Re-rnlcr Bf,lla, showing in a Sti; anger. 

Imel Stranger, thoirrt from the ramp ? 

Slran. This hour arrived. 

Tmel. Bella, retire. [E.o7 Beu.a. 

Slran. I come 

hnel. O yes, you come, 
To say you saw my Conradine expire. 
Or, gracious heavens ! is not the story (al.<c : 
In mercy ! tell me, is he truly dead ? 

Stran. 'Tis so reported. She bewildered seems. lAsidc. 
Imel. Ere I am frozen in death's cold embrace, 
Ere on my eyes he puts his fatal seal, 
I'ell nic thy errand. What has brought yon hither ? 
Stran. 1 can endure no longer. Imelda ! 

[Throios off his disguise. 

TmrJ. Conradine ! 

[She faints, and is supported hy Conradine. 

Conrad. My faithful, dear and lovely one, look up. 

Imel. [Recovering, frantic.'] 
Ifnrk, hark ! but whisper, else they'll hear thee, love. 
They watch thee : hide here, dearest, in my arms 
See ! 'tis a golden dagger : near, yet nearer, 
For it will cut, yea deeper e'en than steel. 



28 GIORDANO. Act L 

Conrad. I meld a ! 

Imel. Nay, insist no more : away ! 
Fve seen this face before, these curling locks, 
i\ntl sparkling eyes. 

Conrad' Dost thou not know me, sweet ? 

Imel. No : hence, away ! O heaven ! 'tis Conradine ! 

Conrad. Be calm, my love ; compose thyself, 1 pray. 

Imel. Art thou alive ! protecting power, I thank thee ! 
My heart aye thought the story was untrue. 
Say, how didst thou escape the murderer's steel ? 

Conrad. Rest till the morrow ; I will then relate 
The marvel of my preservation. Thou'rt 
Too much o'erpowercd to hear the story now. 

Imel. To think that thou art safe will be to me 
An occupation joyous. I'm content. 
To-morrow will the Senate be convened; 
Till then remain unknown, when we will break. 
Thrice welcome guests, on their deliberations. 

Conrad. Thy wish shall be my will. Ne'er till this hour, 
Could I believe thou didst so truly love — 
Thou wert unkind before. 

Imel. Nay, chide me not : 
But let us part, lest observation's eye 
Make foul of what is fair. I'll h^ad thee hence. [Exeunl. 



ACT II. 

SCENE I. A romantic spot : u Cave in iJtc hack ground. 
Several Consjnraiors assembled. Enter Cosmo. 

Isf. Con. Well, captain, come at last : you have been long 
absent. 

Cos?no. Ay, and on rare sport. My dagger will speak 

for me. 

M. Con. Be your purse as we'll gilded, and I am satisfied. 

tid Con. What said Giordano ? 

Cosmo. He loaded me with gold ; that is elofpient thanks. 
I[ear me — I expect a visiter on the instant, who will speak 
of the noble deed I touched on. 

1st. Con. Who is he? Giordano? 

Cosmo. No : your old friend, Neri. i beseech you, hear 
him patiently. 

2nd. Con. If this achievement restore our wealth, and give 
US back our titles, it will be a noble doing. 

Cosmo. It will. 

1st. Con. Such liberty and absolution too, I hope, that wc 



30 GIORDANO. Act JL 

may walk in Florence, and bask in the mid-day sun, fear- 
less of the villanous law — not steal into it like hun<;ry rats. 
'Tis a galling thing, for men of our mettle to he thns crih- 
bcd up. 

Cosmo. Would it were over, and well over ! 

1st. Con. Yon show great love for Giordano. 

Cosmo. The name sounds well with me, and 1 burn to do 
its owner service: a name is sometimes as good as a charnu 
But hush — he comes ! 

Enier Neri. 

Welcome to our palace : no gilded domes have we, no costly 
draperies, nor gaudy pictures to adorn our walls. The 
sky above us is our canopy, the casing air our halls ; and 
these works of nature more nicely fashioned than art's most 
choice cunning, are all the embellishments of our domain. 

Ncri. I like them well. 

Cosmo. The fashion changes here, oftener than in the 
stately palace of the Duke. Each day and night, and each 
revolving season, changes the drapery. Now shines the sun, 
then smile the sun and stars: now green, then yellow, are 
the annual buds. We satiate in variety. But to our pre- 
sent purpose. 

Ncri. My brave friends, I see you all are men, and though 



Scene II. GIORDANO. 31 

T have hinted the dotaicrs downfal, you keep yoiii spirits up 
hke heroes. 

Cosmo. So should they; they have })asscd the ordeal seven 
times seven. 

Neri. From your brave Captain's beginning, I anticipate 
a rich resuh. Daring and blood arc to liim as famihar 
things. 

Cos/no. 1 thank you for this character; rather let my 
deeds than your tongue speak for me. 

Neri. Let this pass. Since his return, I have seen him 
— the name I will not trust aloud, even to air, to winging or 
to pacing things ; for it is said, that strange couriers have car- 
ried tales of old : therefore, in such a cause, I shall be cau- 
tious. Before 1 speak what he said of you, or propose what 
should be done anon, retire with mc into your cave. 

Cosmo. It is like our hearts — secret as the charnel house. 

Neri. Then within. [Exeunt all inlo the Cave. 



SCENE II. — TAtf Senate House. The Duke, Ciordaino, 
CoLONM, Cavilido, and Senators, Attendants, <^r. Ma- 
NiRi in chains and guarded. 

Duke. Conduct the traitor hence. Nay, never speak ; 
Thy gray hairs only, saved thee from the rack. 

[ Exit M A iM K I , gua rdtd. 



32 GIORDANO. Act II. 

It is decreed : Maiiiri is immured, 

And all are lodged on whom suspicion breathes. 

Soon for the safety of ourself and state 

The anthem shall arise. We owe thee much. 

Gior. Against our foreign and domestic foes, 
I've done a soldier's and a subject's duty, — 
Not more, my liege. 

Duke. The reverend traitor was 
The chief adviser in our happy realm : 
He false, it now devolves on us to name 
One wise and loyal. Ere we speak our choice, 
We jjray that brave Giordano will retire. 

Gior. I take my leave. I soar above my ho[)es. 

[Aside Exit. 

Duke. The weighty trust which late the traitor held, 
By one more worthy nmst with speed be filled — 
That one, my judgment and my heart proclaim 
To be our own victorious general. 
Grave senators, how stand you all disposed ? 
Speak freely each : meets this your approbation ? 

Col. It does, my sire — their silence gives approval. 

Cav. No ! I oppose : I will not lend my vote 
To raise a victor to such high control : 
I fear the sway his office might insure 
Over the people's mind. Success in war 
Circles the hero in a glare of light, 



Scene 11. GIORDANO. 33 

Tliat dazzles those who move within his sphere. 
Civihaus, soldiers, all might how to liim ; 
Pause at his word, or at his hidding move. 

Ditke. False are thy tears; I know G'iordano well. 

CoL As I can vouch ! from boyhood we have been 
In triendship strong as fable ever told. 
Give him your voices, friends. Why sit you nmte ? 

Cav. 1 prize him dearly, and 1 hold his deeds 
The [)roudest records on our history's page; 
For these, would yield him all becoming honor. 
What is becoming ? Give him wealth immense — 
The arch triumphal, titles j>roud, and love, 
Yea boundless as the realm, or as his fame — 
But dress no hero in om* civil robes. 

Duke. Why should you fear ^ Does history not record 
Examples parallel, and where renown, 
As great in council as in tented field, 
Has brightly marked the warrior-statesman's course! 
Ay, in a land as brave and wise and free, 
As the wide globe contains, there's proof supreme. 

Cav. I grant you this, but does not history too 
Record, that heroes by their country prized, 
(Aiul man is prone to love the brave in war) 
Have made, without a stepping-stone like this, 
Their niartial deeds a claim to civil rule, 

5 



34 GIORDANO. Act 11. 

And won It too? Then tyranny hath niaiched 

Witli ruthless vengeance, and witli sword unsheathed, 

Drenching the frightened land in native blood. 

Why should 1 bring you instances to prove, 

From ancient times, or e'en in nio<lern days, 

The truth and force of my asseveratioii ? — 

I say what has been once may be again, 

And, though I speak nt)t present feais, I would 

Avoid all possibility of fear. 

CoL Who else o[)poscs ? Silent all! — then none. 

Duke. Yea, answer us ! who does o|)pose our choice? — 
Who will refuse all honoi- to the man 
Thai's won his country's battles, and snlxiued 
An insolent foe? liCt him arise an«l sjH-ak. 

Cciv. Will none suppurt me in the vote I give? 
Grave Senators, to you 1 speak; hear me: 
I pray ye all, beware. Lend not your \ otes 
To yield such power to an andjitious man, 
A daring soldier and the [)eople's idol — 
There's danger in 't. Who speaks ? None! I'm resigned. 

Col. lie is alone. ! thank ye for my friend. 

Duke. No other voice! our motion is approved. 
Now give him escort to the Senate-house. [£x77 CoLOJNlNl. 
If he piove faithless none on earth are true: 



Scene II. GIORDANO. 35 

If lio strive not in loyalty ami wisdom, 
To shed a lustre on our slate and throne, 
Then never patriot lis c<l. 

Jic-cnfcr CoLONNi and CiORDANO. 

Welcome again ; 

Our clioice, which by the Senate is confirmed, 

Bids us salute thee, as our IMinister. 

Gior. My liege, ambition teaches some to soar 
Above their due — not me. I should decline 
This high and undeserved proof of love. 
Did not thy favor, and the Senate's voice, 
Enforce me to the office. As I live 
Not for myself, but for my coimtry's weal, 
I will support her to my utmost nerve. 
We've beat the foe — peace is again restored, 
And in its germ, domestic treason's crushed ; 
Though here I now })iit on th«> civil r(>l)e, 
I frankly tell, tliat whcnsoe'er 1 can 
Better in field than cabinet serve the state, 
ril leave the luxm^ies and eas(> of ])eace, 
To board the foe. 

Diih'. Thou'rt liviuij in our heart. 



3{) GIORDANO. Art IL 



Enter cm Usher. 

Usher. TJio Tair Imolda, now without, my liege, 
Requests an audience in the Senate-house. 

Duke. Coloniii, pray thee, bid thy .sister in. 

[Exeunt Colonni and Usher, 
We sliould not see her here, if all were well. 
We fear that grief has triuni])hed o'er her mind. 
Mow, brave Giordano, didst thou leave my child t 

Gior. My liege, depressed — but yet not so o'ercome, 
That thou shouldst fear despair lias stolen her wits. 

Duhe. How \ have loved her tongue cannot express. 
And when 1 saw her beauty budding fair. 
E'en like the heathen statuary of old, 
I vvorshipp('<l my own creation. Siic comes! 
Alas, she smik's! wc fear it is too tru<\ 

Enter Imelda, ultenited iritli Coeonm, Beu.a, and Maids. 

Diihe. JJow dost thou feel, sweet daughter ? art thou well .'' 
hnel. Well! ay; look 1 not well ? 
Duke. Dost I inly speak? 

Jnu'l. Yea, belter than I look, my sire, T feel. 
\"ou did not send to bid my health iiood morrow ! 



Scene IT. G I O R 1) A N O , 37 

Duke. We jutlged it best not to inhn<lr" on ilipo, 
Nor vex thy hours of grief. 

Imel. My hours of grief! 
I've taught iny iniiid to invent new themes of joy, 
And through our palace merriment shall reign 
Until it sickens. 

Duke. My dearly cherished ! 
Speak as thou fcefst ? 

Gior. Why, what docs this porf end ! \^Asi(h\ 

Imel. Nor words nor looks express my feelings now. 
Say, shall I show thee wherefore, sire? 

Duke. Yea, do : 
For thy |)rocecdings have amazed ns much. 

[E.ril Imelda. 

Gio7\ There is no frenzy in her looks or speech. [^Aside. 

Duke. Why, what is this! sawest anghf without, my sonf 

Col. Not I. 

Cav. 'Tis strange ! 

Duke. 'Tis strange indeed, a)»d still we fern. 
The tyrant's flatterer of old, who saw 
Suspended o'er his liead the naked sword, 
Felt not the hour so terrihie as this. 

Rc-eidcr Imelda and (Joxhadlne. 

Imel. This is the wherefore! 



38 GIORDANO. Act IT. 

Duke. What is il we see ! 

Gior. Am I alive? See I, or Ijreatlie, ov Jienr ? 
What! can the shroud its corse again restore, 
Or, can I for a moment be appalled? [Aside. 

Diike. O heaven and earth ! is this reality ? 

Conrad. Tt is reality, and I appear 
In body corporal, and in health as strong 
As is the stontest in the Council-chamber ; 
Or, as the dark Egyptian, wlien the sun 
From Sagittarius shines upon his land, 
And Theban winds salubriatc the clime. 

Duke. Thy hand, that we may grasp il, and be sine 
The eyes do not deceive the other senses ; 
For legends tell that visions have appeared 
In form as true. It is — it is my son! 

Gior. This is the mystery of last night revealed. [^Aside. 

Duke. My child — we cannot speak ! — for joy, my lords — 
Where are your voices ? O, this harvest home 
More precious is that seed-time e'er presaged. 

Gior. My honored liege, I know not how lo speak; 
His re-appearance hath so touched jny heart, 
That I am <|nitc out-mastered : yet, I greet thee. 
More can I say ? Yes, more, much more, my friend : 
Long may I live in such a heart as thine. 
I turn, lo wish thee worlds of joy, fair dame. 



Scene II. GIORDANO. 39 

Col. Think not because I stood entranced so long, 
That I esteem iny new-found kinsman less 
Than the most lovin<;- noble in the realm — 
I bless this day that gives thee back again. 

Cav. My friend, my friend! with wonder I've been mute, 
And even now, I cannot speak my joy. 

Conrad. For this, your proof of love, 1 thank you, friends; 
And, as in after days you yet may read 
The unturned pages of my book of life. 
You shall not find one blot or stain tliercon, 
To change the love that welcomes my return. 

Duke. My child, thou ilost not speak. 

Imti. I cannot, sire; 
And yet, had I the power, f should refjuest 

Com ml. IN ay speak, Imelda. 

Duke. A}-, and bravely speak. 

Iniel. That Conradinc relate the ciiancc, by which 
He was preserved, and safe restored to us. 

Duke. So poor a favor thou wilt not refuse. 

Conrad. The battle o'er, it was my (irst desire 
To view the bleeding pictures on the ll*;kl, 
And hear the talcs related by the serfs. 
With this intent, I changetl my dress for that 
My valet wore, and, thus tlisguised, set out. 
An hour thereafter the rcuort v>ent round. 



40 GIORDANO. Act II. 

That I was muicicied and my servant tied ; 
On whom suspicion lijsted of the deed. 
On heaiin<»" this, I judged how it might be — 
And 'twas — the servant lor his master fell. 
Unknown to all 1 changed my dress again, 
(Remember, 'twas niy fiist essay in arms, 
The sooner then you will forgive this act,) 
To test what soldiers woidd report of me, 
For truth is always spoken of the dead ; 
But, when I learned, that couriers were sent 
To Florence and my father — I resolved 
To gladden those vvlio might lament my fall. 
Last night in haste and secret I arrived ; 
Yet, still disguised, an audience 1 obtained 
With fair Imclda— she, my friends, may tell 
^Vhy the revealment was jjostponed till now. 

tUot: Henceforth there's nothing certain in this world! 

[Aside. 

Cav. There surely is a just and unseen arm, 
Which shields the guiltless from the assassin's steel. 

Duke. It is a tale of wonder. We are glad. 

Conrad. Not for myself do 1 rejoice I'm safe, 
But, that i may for all thy favor, show 
My love and loyalty — though first for thee, 
Feel 1 the wealth of life. Thou art not sad! 



Scene 11. GIORDANO. 41 

Col. I cannot speak the great content I feel. 
But like my sister will be mute ; she stands 
With cheeks as crimson as the Persian rose, 
And her blue eye is beaming- with a tear, 
Like the sweet violet when bathed in dew. 

Duke. Wo pause to hear thee speak. 

I?nti. Wlial shall I say ? 
II" aught there be thou thiidvest 1 should say, 
Pray speak for me. 

Conrad. Hast thou no boon to ask ? 

Imel. Hast thou no boon to ask ? 

Conrad. Yes, I have one, 
But my o'erflowing heart can find no words 
To give it utterance. 

DuliC. We wonder not : 
Then, let us on our mind so settle yours, 
That we may take the true impression thence, 
And be the just interpreter of both. 

Conrad. I could not trust a better than my liege. 

hnel. I could not trust a fitter than my sire. 

Duke. Then list, my court; — here we bestow our child, 
And they themselves shall name the day, on which 
The rights of marriage shall be solemnized. 
Nay, speak not now : we know you would but thank us ; 
Thanks from an untouched heart, unwelcome are ; 



42 GIORDANO, Act II. 

From those who led, as \vc |)crceive you do, 
They arc too powerless to express the thought. 

Gior. Yea, take thy thanks, else live unthanked for ever. 

[Aside. 

Conrad. Then silence be uiy good thanks-bearer now. 

Gior. Hail, happy pair! health, joy, and love to both, 
As strong and boundless as our loyalty. 

Duke. Enough, enough ; now let the trumpet speak, 
liCt dulcet sounds and merry peals awake. 
Thy hand : my lords, thus break we up (»ur court. 

Flourish. Exeunt. 



SCEJNE 111. (JiuKDAiNo's House. Enter ihoKux^i). 

Gior. He has retiu'ued, Imclihi is his bride, 
And thus, two cherished thoughts at once are crushed ! 
Each step I tread is on a treaciieious luiue ; 
To me, suspicion, scorpion-like nuiy cling, 
Perhaps this hour, and murder all my hopes. — 
My brain's on fire, and tortures rack my mind ! 
They shall not riot in each others' arms, 
And 1 be cast despised to dark perdition. 
I must succeed, and wear the «lucal crown, 
Else with my vengeance will 1 shako the world : 



i^crne III. GIORDANO. 43 

And llicroforc on tlic instant innst resolve 
1\> fix tlio climax of ;i Ik)!(1 acliievemcnt — 
Tliis is already sure — he dies. My friends. 

Enter CoNRADiNE and ColoniM. 

I greet ye both, Imt tliou above all name 
Art dear, my friend, to every loyal heart : 
How fares it with thee now ? — 

Col. He is caressed ; 
Each one he meets, more loving than before, 
Scarce gives him time to spend a happy honr, 
Where most his heart inclines. 

Conrad. I must confess. 
This day has brought assurance of esteem 
From high and low, beyond my merits far: 
This joyous <lay has fixed my future fale. 
And I am blessed. 

Gior. Thou art a bri<legroom now I 
Anon we'll have a festivtil of note, 
And we shall hail tlicc husband of a dame. 
The pride and |>atfern of her gentle sex. 

ConratJ. My heart confesses her excelling vvoilb. 

Col. Nay, prate not of 't ; while thou dosl liilk, she wails : 
Let us liegone, FII lead thee to her presence. 



44 GIORDANO. Act 11. 

Conrad. My heart is there ah-ead}^ 

Gior. Fare thee well. 

[ExeuM CoNRADiNE, and Colonni. 
He dies ! he stands between me and the sun. 
A thousand doubts are fretting in my mind, 
Which almost bid me pause in ray career. 
I've found one heart that gold will not enslave — ■ 
The hireling keeper of Maniri's cell — 
What now ? 

Enier Bella. 

Bel. My lord, I've stolen a moment hither, 
To bid thee act, and never fear this chance. 

Gior. Nothing shall daunt me now, fair monitiess. 
Where is thy husband? Bclia, knows lie this? 

Bel. My lord, he does not : he has not returned, 

Gior. Does Cosmo wait without ? 

Bel. He does, my- lord. 

Gior. Bring him to me. 

Bel. Thou wilt not chide nor fret. [Exit Belf.a. 

Gior. I will march onward to the golden top. 
Nor pause at trifles more. The deed that failed, 
Is fixed and proved upon Maniri's head, 
And dark suspicion sleeps. 



Stme.HL GIORDANO. 45 



Re-enfcr Bell.'S, nitli Cosmo. 

My noble captain, 

The late mischance has stirrcfi my heart anew. 

To strike a bolder and a surer blow. 

Cosmo. My lord, it was an unforeseen event : 
I never dreamed that for a selfish end — 
To hear, unknown, base soldiers speak his praise, 
He, with a servant, would have changed his dress, 

Gior. Thou didst thy utmost, and I blame thee not : 
But now, good sir, thou must strike home, and sure. 
There is a something working in my brain, 
And that the great conception may have birth, 
I need yom* friendly aid. By a device 
I'll from the paln<'e send this love-sick knight: 
Near at my call be both, I'll give thee soon 
The knowledge and advantage of my scheme. 
Cosmo. I am prepared. 
Bel. And I. 
Gior. I know you well. 
Bel. What may it be, my I(m<1 :■ 
Gior. I know not yet : 
Stay not for askings. Go: I will resolve. 

\_Excunt Bella, and Cosmo. 



46 GIORDANO. Act H. 

Wliat slioukl it he ? — A letter 1 will forge, 

Before liis nuptials can be solemnized, 

That business speaks his presence with his sire — 

And then, must Cosmo mark both time and ))lace, 

To find an easy and unwary prey. 

I will not live in fear. His presence has 

Rebuked me often in my great emprise ; 

But never will I pause or falter more 

In my career. There is no failing now — 

This, Conradinc, shall be thy day of <looni. [Exi/. 



ACT III. 

SCENE 1. 2%e Palace. The scene oyens and discovers 
Imelda rising from a Harp, and Conuadine scaled on an 
Ottoman. 

Conrad. My love, 1 pray tlico, touch ihy harp again. 

Imel. Not now ; for more I feel inchned to hear 
The music of thy voice. 

Conrad. I will not urge thee; 
Vet when thou wak'st such language from these strings, 
It seems as music bade my bosom swell, 
And every thought aspire above this worKl. 

Imel. In speaking thus, you mean to give me [>rai?^e. 

Conrad. In speaking thus, I only tell my mind, 
For thou'rt above my praise. O, my sweet love ! 
Thou'rt all I live for. 

Imel. Art not over-fond ? 

Conrad. What now could better fill our thoughts than love ? 
What other theme should please when thou art near? 

ImcL Thou art a hero, let us S|)cak o? war. 



48 . GIORDANO. Ad III. 

Conrad. Leave blood and battles to ambitious minds. 

Imel. Who knows what's love ? 

Conrad. The world is full of it ; 
There's not a living thing but loves its kind, 
And nothing is 'twixt heaven and earth so true. 
Sweet ever-living love ! and O, as pure 
As wakening zephyrs, or as opening flowers ! 

Tmcl. It ne'er was praised by man so much before. 

Conrad. It is great nature's first and sweet conception • 
It is God's gift, to prove he thinks of man ; 
It is the link that binds us to Himself! 
And in those hearts which have such cause as I, 
To feel its heavenly power and influence, 
It lives supreme : it rules in every thought, 
It dwells in every vein — by day, by night. 
In fiery youth and chilly age the same — 
Heaven's first and best, and aye-enduring blessing I 

Imel. Thou speak'st as thou hadst felt it. 

Conrad. Hadst ! Do feel, 
And with that pure and lioly inspiration 
JNone else could fire. Thou wilt be ever thus ! 

Inid. As I have been, my lord — as now I am, 
Unchanged, unchanging will my iieart remain. 
And thine, I hope, will ever be the same. 



Scene I. GIORDANO. . 49 

Conrad. To liint a doubt is to imply mistrust : 
My life ! thou surely wilt not be unkind. 

Imel. As well as jealousy, love has its fear : 
Tlie more we love, the more do nameless fears 
Distress the mind — of these alone 1 speak. 
I could not love, where I would not repose 
My wealth, my thoughts, and fame. 

Conrad. O, that is kind, 
And hath removed, more than I ever doubted : 
But when shall come the day that makes us one ? 

Imel. 1 do not know : I've scarcely thought of it. 

Conrad. To-morrow ? 

Imel. Not so soon. 

Conrad. Call ye it soon ! 
In the delicious dream of that blessed time, 
I've spent long days and never-ending nights, 
And counted moments, longer for the counting. 
O, I could tell thee of perplexing thoughts. 
Of fears which shook me, and of hopes that smiled. 

Imel. And I, like thee, might speak of hopes and fears. 

Conrad. Ev'n as thou art — be ever thus. Hut when .^ 

l/ntl. Of this, my lord, we'll think some other time. 

Conrad. My sweet, fair love! 

Enter Bella. 
Whv coin's! sfi rtidciv hither: 



50 GIORDANO. Ad III. 

Bti. This iusjtaiit has a inessciiger arrived, 
And in such haste, that scarcely had lie breath, 
To say this letter was for thee, my lord. 

Conrad. It is my brotlier's character. 

Imel. My lord ! 
Thy color chanijes, and thy looks are sad : 
Pray, what is this? Ill news? 

Conrad. licavc us. \^Exit Bella.] My love, 
This is a wayward world ; the brightest shine 
At times hath rain. 

Imel. What new mischance is this ? 

Conrad. A moment since, I hoped thou wouldst have had 
A double father ; now, my love, 1 fear 
That I myself, no longer have a fatlier. 

Imel. What says the letter? It is sudden news. 

Conrad. My aged, honored and revered sire, 
Approaches dissolution; 'tis his wish, 
Which by my brother is in this expressed, 
That I be near him when his end arrives. 
To meet his blessing, and to close his eyes. 

Imel. Thou art his favorite son. 

Conrad. Would I were not, 
If that might save him from the hour of death. 

linel. To all that hour must come. Yet there is hope. 

Conrad. I blame myself, that I unthinkingly. 



Scene I. GIORDANO. r,l 

In the sweet joy of meeting thee, my love, 
Forgot to send discredit to the tale 
Of my decease. 

Imel. Be not so self-accusing. 

Conrad. If it hath reached him in the fearful hour 
Of nature's struggle, as perchance it did ! — 

Enicr ike Duke. 

My royal sire, so I may call thee now. 

Duke. We've heard the news, too hapless and too true. 

Ifnel. Father! 

Duke. Compose thyself, my child. Nay, nay — 
What should be done ? 

Conrad. Thither I'll go forthwith. 
Attended only with one trusty squire. 

Duke. Thy heart must he thy prompter ; have ihy will. 

Conrad. No longer will I tarry: fare ye well. 
To thee, my love, — again I turn to thee; 
A strange foreboding haunts my spirits now, 
And makes me sigh that we must part. Farewell. 

[Exeunt the Duke and Conradtne. 

Imel. Farewell. Again we part ! [One chip of thunder.'] 
O, horror, horror ! 
This is prophetic of a dismal end, 



52 GIORDANO. Ad III. 

For lieaven's loud thunder speaks. Alas, alas ! 
Angels of merc3% guard him on his way ! 

Enfcr Bella. 

Is ho gonc.^ 

Bel. Yes ; I heard his horse's hoofs 
yonnd wild impatience in the palace court. 
He holdly spurred the gallant steed, and, fleetly 
As a proud ship impelled by quarter winds, 
lie onward rode — then hushed was every sound. 

Imel. O, hapless, hapless me ! 

Bel. Cheer up, my lady ; 
From clouded mornings often corne bright days, 
And purest rain falls from the darkest sky ; 
So cheer thee then, and I presage, ere long, 
Thy lover safely will return to thee, 
With pleasant news and sunshine on his brow. 

Imel. I fondly hope, what hope may never give. 
Kind ITeaven, protect him in his sad career, 
And bring him safely to my love again. [E^irimt. 



Scene H. GIORDANO. 53 

SCENE IT. Giordano's House. 
Enter Nert and Bella. 

Neri. What! is this so? 

Bel. Yes ; all, as I have told. 

Neri. There's too inuch huinnn kindness in his heart ; 
That I must change, and turn his nature wild, 
Else sail we, wife, upon a sea of peril. 
It grieves me, too, to hear him laugh at fear, 
And hoast of courage he possesses not. 
ril make him cruel, else I'll tame myself. 
And turn confessor to some silly girl. 

Bel. O, what a contrast is hotween you twain ! 

iVeW. I think there's not a mortal in tlie Inud, 
Who, if he saw Giordano's lily lieart. 
Would not condemn him for so poor a tenant. 

Bel. Pray urge liim on. 

Neri. I will; and if his soul 
Be not encased in atmosphere of truth. 
Of innocence and feeble-heartedness. 
From which, like our great globe, nought can escape, 
I'll change him, wife, and thou shalt see it soon. 

Bel. That soon, can never soon enouifh airive, 



54 GIORDANO. Act III. 

For should our daring j)roject be revealed, 
What will become ofusr 

Neri. Fear nothing, wife : 
This deed achieved, thy husband and thyself 
Will both be mighty in the realm. Thus far, 
Thou hast done service to the cause. Bear up ; 
The time is near when all will be secure. 

Bel. I would to Heaven thy words may be confirmed ! 

Nej'i. I hear a step ; again ! hush. Get thee hence. 

[Exit Bella. 
I'll move aside, and over-hear his prate. 

Enter Giordano. 

Gior. Now he is gone, and I can freely breathe ! 
When next we hear of him — 'twill be from Heaven : 
I counselled Cosmo — he fails not again. 
The Duke and daughter die, that is resolved : 
To fondly love, where I so deeply hate, 
Is treason 'gainst my passions, and is death. 
Colonni ,'' he shall live. I fear not him ; l 

He is a fond and unsuspecting fool, 
And I'll content him, though I wear the crown. 
Let Neri fret; by Heaven! he shall not die. 



Scene IL GIORDANO, 55 



Neri advances. 

Hah! 

Neri. VV hy dost start, why vvouklst escape from me ? 
Why cov er up thy breast, as 'twere to hide 
The thoughts within ? Thine eyes are inward turned, 
Fearful to look on me, lest they reflect 
The broodiiigs of thy mind. 

Gior. What should I fear ? 
Why question me? 

Neri. My lord, excuse my speech; 
For in a cause like this, it must be plain. 
Why dost thou pale ? why doth the blood now sgek, 
And then forsake thy cheeks .'' wilt answer me ? 

Gior. Command the ocean in its rage to calm, 
x\nd bid the hurricane abate its wrath ; 
If they obey, then will 1 hold the rein 
Upon my blood, and with the self-same ease 
Control it as I guide my horse : but no, — 
The blood within is like the wind without ; 
Both have their sway beyond all mortal power, 

Neri. Is this philosophy ? Your erudition ! 

Gior. It has been proved by scientific sages- 

Neri. I hate all sciences, and sages too ; 



56 GIORDANO. Act III. 

Why should our great resolves commune with either ? 
Let's speak of that which will advantage us, 
Nor heed those sages, who will turn their brains 
To find the gender of a plant or worm, 
And waste a life to anatomize a fly- 
Pish on them all ! What think'st thou now, my lord ? 

Gior. I almost yield before thy force of words. 

Neri. If thou couldst set thy foot where now I stand, 
And let the earth bear such a heart as mine. 
Which neither tongue nor steel could e'er appal, 
The envenomed bowl, nor midnight murder scare, 
We should in this so nobly move to-night. 
That morning's sun would hail us masters here. 
But, as it is, I fear that we will fail. 

Giur. Fail ! we shall not. 

Neri. Yes, wo will surely fail, 
If thou be not both resolute and brave, 
Or if thou act, as I o'erhcard thee say. 

Gior. Why dost upbraid me thus t What overheard'st ? 

Neri. Who in the palace shall escape our swords ? 

Gior. None — yes, only one. 

Neri. Who? 

Gior. My friend — Colonni. 

Neri. By Heaven, that wretcli shall be the first to die! 
Swift as the darts the fabled archer shot. 



Scene II. GIORDANO. 57 

Which, as they flew, took fire, my sword shall pierce 
His heart. 

Gior. I am resolved — my friend must die: 
None shall escape the havoc of that hour. 

Ncri. That tone I've heard before; but trust it not, 
Till I have proof. 

Gior. Demand what proof thou wilt. 

Neri. And if I should, my lord, thou'lt quail again. 

Gior. Wilt thou obey me ? Answer, sir. 

Neri. My lord ! 

Gior. Sir, I command ye: ask of me a proof. 

Neri. I am silent. 

Gior. Thou shalt not trifle thus. 
Beware, I say ; I'll strike thee else to hell. 

Neri. My lord, art mad .'' What wouldst P 

Gior. Propose a deed. 
More damnable than even thou hast done, 
More soul-accursing than the demons know, 
And I will do't, to prove I am a man. 

Ncri. First answer me: where's Conradinc-^ 

Gior. In hell : 
When thou wert gone, the devil sent him l>a<K — 

Nej'i. This I have heard, my lord; and thn) you forged 
A silly scrawl, to send him from the c(»urt. 
What motive had you for an act like lliis.^ 

8 



58 GIORDANO. Act III. 

Gior. By Heaven! thou question'st as I were thy slave! 
Do not provoke me further. 

Neri. Speak, my lord. 

Gior. It cither was, or my racked mind conceived, 
That in his presence nothing could succeed ; 
I dared not vent my hate and kill him here ; 
That would have roused suspicion from her den, 
Where now she sits, as mute and dark as death. 
His father's house is three days journey hence, 
The which, I prophesy, he'll never reach. 
Cosmo succeeds— I look for him anon. 

Ncri. As thou speak'st, like an evil thought, he comes, 

Enlcr Cosmo, 

Gior. Is he dead ? Say ? 

Cosmo. My lord. 

Gior. Speak out, and quickly; 
J>eclare he's dead, and give my heart content. 

Cosmo. No; he escaped me, but J slew liis squire. 

Gior. Death and destructi<»n ! Double gifted slave, — 
His servant slain — and what is that to me? 
Thou art not fit to live ; go, seek his soul — 
And yet, too poor for jne to kill. 

Neri. Good Heaven ! 



Scene 11. G I O R D A NO. 59 

Cosmo. Wilt Iiear me, my good lord \ 

Gior. Peace, villain, peace! 
Life's whirlwind is all spent, antl I am— nothing. 
There's not a slave who battens in the sun, 
That's half so base as thou art. 

Neri. [To Cosmo.] How is this ? [Titty ^pcak ufurl.li 

Gior. Now I re[)ent of all my deep designs, 
And curse amiiition, which has urged me on. 
Could I recall my pristine state of mind, 
With feelings pure and conscience undeiiled, 
How gladly then would I lie down to die, 
And leave dominion to the bolder soul. 
My schemes achieved, what should I then have been? 
What is the brightest name on history's page? 
When death ajiproaches, who can then cry, "slay," 
Or nod the head, and awe him to subjection, 
As man docs millions of his fellow men? 
O, none! the monarch, like the slave, must yield, 
And give his life -without one moment's pause ! 

Ncri. [Ajjart lo CosMO.j Art sure of this? 
Cosmo. Most sure. 

Ncri. Then it is well, 
And we will prosper yet ; but heed him not : 
He's inconsistent as a dream, or woman. 
The lit will pass, so think not oft, nor t(;ll; 



60 GIORDANO. Act HI. 

But hasten to your iVicnds. We'll meet anon : 

They are assembled in the Sibyl's cave. [^Exil Cosmo. 

Gior. I've often thought upon this world — and wondered ! 
What is ambition, why are men ambitious, 
And what avail their petty hopes and fears, 
Their brief authority and baseless pride? 
A few years pass — then, where are the renowned? 
Ask the dank charnel-house, — no voice responds : 
Ask the vain living-, — we may hear, they were, 
But now are gone, and with them is entombed 
Each aim and action of life's fretful hour : 
The world has spared them, and regrets it not ! 
The mausoleum proud, and towering pile, 
Crumble to dust; yea, all memorials die. 

Neri. [Advcmclng-.] What think'st, my lord ? Wilt thou 
put down the helm, 
And now abandon this, thy dukedom voyage ? 

Gior. 1 have no skill to guide my fragile bark. 

iSferi. Not to the starting port — so steei' thee on : 
I will be pilot. Where's thy courage ? 

Gior. Drowned ! 

Neri. Then, like a craven, also drown thyself. 

Gior. Know ye to whom ye speak, sir ? 

Neri. I do not. 
I took thee for a man — tliou saidst thou wert ; 



i:iceneIL GIORDANO. 61 

But now, thy looks and fears belie tliy sjieech : 
I know thee not. 

Gior. What ! thon dost surely know, 
For thee, I placed upon one single chance, 
My life, nay more, my spotless reputation. 
Our deed discovered, and that is most sure, 
My fate is fixed — I must fall headlong down 
The deep abyss of infamy and shame. 

Neri. Pray, what new fit is this ^ Canst thon explain ? 

Gior. I've been thy friend, and made thee what thou art ; 
Then bear with me. 

Neri. I give thee thanks for all. 

Gior. I ne'er forsook thee ; when thy ardent mind 
Did deeds, which nature shudders to recite, 
I stood 'twixt thee and law ; and made thy heart 
Seem fair with men, that else had been a hell. 

Neri. I do confess it, and am thy debtor. 

Gior. I've borne from thee, what man has never dared 
13(;fore accuse me of. Do I lack courage f 
Was it by lack of heart, that in the field, 
J'jrc I had scarcely thrice seven summers seen, 
I (lid such deeds as raised mc to command ? 
W^as 't lack of courage, that, the late campaign 
Led on by me, subdued the insolent foe, 
Aud uuide him crave, on abject terms, a peace ? 



62 GIORDANO. Act III. 

Or, was 't by lack of courage, that I'm now 
First ill the state, as I was in the camp ? 

Neri. I know thee well, and in a loyal cause 
None can out-match thee ; yet, in one like this, 
Thy conscience rules thy valor : were't not so, 
Thou wouldst march onward boldly, to the goal 
Of thy renown, and free me from suspense. 

Gior. And thou know'st, too, had it not been for thee, 
I never should have sought to seize the crown. 

Neri. It was my boundless love that urged thee on* 

Gior. Thy love has lost me. 

Neri. My love shall make thee : 
To-night, with my advice, thou art a duke- 

Gior. Dost say so ? 

Neri. Yes, I pledge my soul upon it. 

Giur. I gain new hopes. 

Neri. Then gain new courage too. 
And thou shalt reigit in Florence. 

Gior. Has he gone .^ 
■ Neri. Cosmo, my lord ? — Yes, to the Sibyl's cave 

Gior. I lost my wits, and I forgot to question. 

Neri. That I did. 

Giur. Well? Wiiat said he ? Islherehope? 

Neri. The servant dead, the cotqiican rich in life, 



Scene IL GIORDANO. G3 

j 

Impelled his courser on with double speed, 
And fleet as fair report, was ofTand gone. 

Gior That doth unburden nie ! 

Ncri. Bear up, and bravely. 
I've touched some men of moment on the guard, 
And all are anxious for the glorious hour. 

Gior. What can I say, my friend, or how express 
My feelings for this love.^ I'm thine for ever. 

Neri. The city's ripe, and all the country round ; 
None breathe aloud, but each rebellious looks; 
And were one tongue to herald its heart-thoughts, 
I would speak for millions. Succeed we will. 

Gior. Thank Heaven! if this be so, I am a mnu. 

Neri. I speak not unadvisedly, but know. 
On certain proof, how stands the country's mind ; 
For I have seen some citizens of note. 
Who lent their ears, as if the tale were life. 

Gior. I'm screwed again unto the sounding pitch. 
If here, irresolution ever dwelt. 
It lives no longer. Me, my friend, imbue 
With thy courageous and determined spirit ; 
For MOW, my heart is like the Caspian sea, 
Which from a thousand streams its wave receives, 
And nothing disembogues. Thou art my friend. 



64 GIORDANO. Act III. 

Neri. Now art thou worthy of the coming glory. 

Gior. Ay ! here I cast all pity and remorse 
To the infernal gods — and freight my mind 
With strength, revenge, with cruelty and daring ; 
All of that manly and immortal cast, 
Which now becomes the ambition of my soul ; 
From which, if I do wince, great Jove, forgot me i 

Neri. Amen ! 

Gior. Speak out ; by thee I will be ruled. 

Neri. All are convened within the Sibyl's cave : 
Let's thither go, and not a moment lose. 

Gior. Ev'n fate's despite, I am resolved to dare. 

Neri. To-night, to-night — our watch-word be, to-night. 

Gior. To-night, to-night — to glory or 1o dcnth. 

[Exeunt 



ACT IV. 

SCENE I. A romantic spot; a Cave in the hack ground. 
Several Conspirators assembled. Enter Cosmo. 

Cosmo. Hush! they approach. Give them all ear. 

Enter Giordano and Neri. 

Gior. My friends, 
I greet you all with best acknowledgments. 
'Tis not alone, that I've by Ncri heard 
Your dauntless resolution ; and I see 
Stamped on each face the daring- of the heart. 
[To Cosmo.] I grieve, that in the fury of chagrin 
I gave such lawless license to my tongue. 
As doubtless festers on the high-born soul ; 
But think no more of it, and be my friend. 

Cosmo. Thy noble nature condescends too far; 
The offence is past, and all's forgotten now. 

9 



GO GIORDANO. Ad IV. 

Neri. Then, is the luckless breach entire again. 

Gior. Some influential men await without, 
With whom we should unite ; brave spirits all. 
^hall they, my friends, have audience ? 

Cosmo. Yes, surely, 
If they can serve the state and cause. 

Gior. They can. 

Cosmo. Deny them not admittance. 

Gior. My heart's friend, 
J^(i thine this task. 

Neri. My lord, thy servant ever. [Exit Neri. 

A pause, then re-enter Neri, followed hjj several Citizens. 

Gior. Welcome. My trusty, brave, and cherished friends, 
I need not now repeat again to you. 
The sum and secret, you've from Neri heard ; 
Yet, give me ear, that I may once essay 
To speak the wrongs which force us to rebel. 

Neri. Speak on, my lord. 

Cosmo. Thy word to us is law. 

Gior. Think not that selfish aims impel me on ; 
No ! 'tis our dear and bleeding coimtry's wrongs. 
That call in thunder-tone for wide revenge. 

Neri- 'Tis these alone, which instigate my heart, 



Scend I. GIORDANO. 07 

To doom our proud oppressor's overthrow — 
And 1 may answer for my valiant friends, 
Who, robbed of liberty, life's richest boon, 
Thirst for revenge npon the tyrant Dnke. 

Gior. Let us succeed, as we most surely will, 
A^ain shall all your privileges be fixed 
Oji such a firm and lasting pedestal. 
That nothing, save Omnipotence himself, 
AV^Iil e'er reduce you to your present thrall. 

Conspir. All hail — Giordano ! 

Citizens. Hail to thee — Giordano ! 

Gior. I speak to you as men ; and brave you are, 
With hearts and hands prepared to strike for freedom. 
The richest blood of olden times, has drenched 
Our own loved land in freedom's holy cause : 
The world apj)!auds the daring of our sires. 
And in each heart their monument is built. 
We may rank with them in a future age. 
If heaven should smile upon our great emprise; 
And it will smile, if to ourselves we're true. 

Conspir. We shall have liberty. 

Citizens. And wide revenge. 

Gior. O, could the noble Medician line, 
from their se[)ulcliral slumbers start to life. 
How would they gaze ujion our abject state! 



08 GIORDANO. Act IV 

Yea, as they i,'azed, their burniii<»- tears of blood 
Would overflow the city, and arouse 
Each mute and Hfeless thing to shout aloud, 
Death to oppressors, liberty to man ! 

Ncri. This speaks a brave and patriotic heart. 

Gior. What ! shall our Florence, that for ages was 
Ruled by her free-born sons, who held the reins, 
Not as Dukes, — Dukes ! tyrants I should have said, 
But, by their fellow-citizens' consent. 
Be lorded over thus, by royal blood.'' 
Shall we ignobly crouch, and see this Duke, 
(Whose family but as yesterday hath been, 
By German monarch's power and Papal guile. 
Placed on a guilty throne,) with sceptered hand 
Enslave the people, and abuse their laws.^ 
And, at his nod, shall we his vassals bow, 
Or, rise like i»atriots and redress our wrongs ? 

Ncri. Each word is magic; I am all a-tire. 
To do a mighty deed. 

Cilizcns. Death to all Dukes. 

Cosmo. His eloquence is all-convincing- proof. 

Ncri. Our wrongs arc countless as the stars of eve, 
And black as midnight are our tyrant's crimes. 

Gior. Such hearts ijhould only live in such a time. 
They bousi of ancient blood and noble birth! 



Scene I. GIORDANO. 69 

What wondrous virtue has tlieir blood from ours ? 
Where is nobility, save in the mind f 
My friends, 1 speak to you on certain ])roofs, 
Which have convinced me of such loscl deeds. 
That language burns, yet has not words to name 
Our festering wrongs, and their outrageous crimes. 

Neri. Our spirits flash like lightning from the cloud, 
To strike and blast them. 

Cosmo. We are doubly fixed. 

Gior. It much behooves us, in a cause like this, 
To move with secrecy, despatch and care ; 
But, pardon me, I do not mean to question 
The great resolves by which you are condjined ; 
Then, })ray you all, retire with my good friend. 
That, by a sacred covenant you seal 
Each lip, and fix perditionon the soul 
That breaks it. Neri, thou wilt lead them in. 

[Exeunt all into the Cave, except Giordano. 
They're gone ! I thank thee, Destiny of man, 
And thee. Ambition, that I worship, thank ! 
No longer do I fear my luke-warm heart, 
Which often has my aspirations checked. 
My bosom now is fraught with stern resoK es — 
Remorseless 'tis — here dwell all qualities 
That njan distiuguisli from the nieancr clay, 



70 GIORDANO. Act IT 

Who breathe, and boast, and strut, and wear his form. 
Hark, hark ! again ! 'tis done, and they approach. 

Re-enter Neri, Cosjmo, Conspirators and Citizens. 

Neri. It is performed, and all have freely sworn : 
This is the cup, rich with the purple blood, 
Warm from each vein. 

Gior. My friends, that ye are men 
Of noble daring, and high-reaching souls, 
Each word and action, yea, each look, bespeaks. 
When 1 craved blood, ye freely ope'd your veins : 
That tells your virtues. Come — look in this goblet! 
Mark how the blood congeals! stand forth, the one 
Who can distinguish, or can separate 
His own from this condition. 

Cosmo. We cannot. 

Gioj: None ? I beseech ye, friends, consider thi?? 
An emblem of ourselves — indivisible. 

Ncrt. We shall, my lord. 

Gior. Lo! see within this wall 
There is a secret and a dark recess ; 
Ap|)roach! 

Cuamo. As dark as is a charnci-housc. 

Giur. Whatever enters is as in the i^rave. 



Scene L GIORDANO. 71 

I pray ye, friends, entomb the chalice there : — 
Stay, fellow bondmen, think well on the terms. 

Cosmo. What are the terms? 

Gior. This is the throne of silence. 
If Nerl place it on that pedestal. 
Now, with the full consent of all around, 
It is a seal of secrecy and silence. 
This is a charmed spot, andVo betide 
Whoever breaks the Sibyl's requisition. 
With one consent ye freely do accord ? 

Cosmo. We do. 

Gior. Then place it there. 

Neri. 'Tis done, my lord. 

Gior. There's nought 'neath Heaven so silent as the grave ! 
Ye swear to hide, deep in your bosom's core, 
This plot, e'en as the soul-intcrrcd thought. 

Omnes. We swear ! 

Gior. By hopes of future bliss. 

Omncs. We swear ! 

Gior. Amen! Oin- force is strong; we shall succeed, 
If my poor service, ever at command, 
Can aught avail ; and when the yawning seas, 
Which so beset our dear-loved ntitive ship, 
Are lulled to peace, the people's voice shall then, 
Both free and unrestrained, appoint a pilot. 



72 GIORDANO. Act IV^ 

Neri. Thou art the noblest Florentine, my lord ; 
'Tis thou, and thou alone, shalt hold the helm. 

Gior. The army lies encamped a few miles hence. 
And at m}' nod it is resolved to march. 

Cosmo. Thou art the man, hereafter shall be Duke. 

Neri. All hail, Giordano ! ruler that shall be. 

Qior. No more, I pray thee — it is understood. 
Despatch is victory, but delay is death ; 
Then let us boldly strike. Our patriot deed 
Will so alarm the Duke, and awe the Senate, 
That long ere either summons nerve to move. 
Each castle, fortress, citadel and tower, 
Will call us masters. — Friends, I cry despatch ! 

Neri. Despatch our motto — wear it on your hearts. 

Gior. What is arranged, and what is still to do, 
I leave with thee, and wltli my honest friend. 
While I forthwith proceed unto the palace, 
And mark how lies our course- 

Neri. What is the hour ? 

Gior. Midnight. 

Cosmo. The meeting place ? 

Gior. My house ; and Neri, 
Who is my counsellor and dearest friend, 
Will lead ye thither, and mean time devise 
Such plans as intervening hours require. 



Scene 11. GIORDANO. 73 

Away, brave souls, away; nor rest nor sleep 
Shall this heart know, till freedom is achieved. 

lExeunt. 



SCENE II. The Palace. Enter (he Duke and Colonni, 
opposUe. 

Duke. My son ! 

Col. A wounded man is hither brought, 
So much with gaping stabs and blood disguised, 
By none around has he been recognised. 

Duke. Well, what of that ? For such unruly times, 
Is aught unnatural, although to nature 
It speaks rebellion ? 

Cul. Sire, he strangely talks ; 
In broken accents, and by gestures vague, 
(For scarcely hath he breath to speak or live,) 
Reveals all is not right. 

Duke. So! lead us to him. 

Col. Come, question quickly, else he may be dead. 

[Exeunt. 



10 



74 GIORDANO, Act IV. 



SCENE III. The Palace. Enter Imelda and Bella. 

Imel. What are the guesses, pray ? 

Bel. Some think he is 
A traveller, who, by villains hath been robbed; 
While others fancy that he is the squire 
Who bore thy lover company. 

Imel. O, Heaven ! 

BeL Be not distressed, for this is but surmise. 

Imel. Yet bare surmise, in such a case as this, 
Is horrible. Bella, can he not speak ? 

Bel. But incoherently. \_Asicle.'] I do repent, 
And curse the gilded trash that bought my soul. 

Imel. O, much I fear that tiiere is something wrong. 

Bel. E'en now thy royal father questions him, 
And on the instant, doubtless, will return 
To calm thy fears. 

Imel. At parting I was sad, 
And dreadful omens spoke in fearful tones ; 
Now, this mischance seems to embody all 
My worst imaginings in worst of shapes. 
Divin'st thou aught.'* 

BeL I cannot guess, my lady. 



Scene ir. GIORDANO. ^5 



Enter the Duke. 

Imel. What hast discovered, father ? 

Biike. He is the squire 
Who with thy love so lately journeyed hence. 

Jmel. Mercy ! 

Biike. Fear nothing ; Conradine is safe. 

Imel. Kind Heaven, I thank thee ! Father, tell me all. 

Buke. We know not more : hut strongly we suspect, 
There is fresh treason stirring in the state. 
Retire, while we proceed unto the cell 
Where lies Maniri. Doubts are gathering o'er us. 
Which we from him may have confirmed or stilled. 

Imel. Good Heaven, conduct us through this fearful time ! 

[Exeunt. 



SCENE IV. A Dungeon. Maniri, in chains. 

Man. Who could have thought that this would be my doom ! 
That I, who from green youth to wintry age 
Had served the state, would in a dungeon close 
A life of useful toil. No traitorous aim 
Had ever being here. O that the world 



76 GIORDANO, Act IV 

Might, from my undeserved fate, behold 

The ingratitude of man. Perchance I stood 

Before the sun and an ambitious mind, 

Who, for my place, has charged me with rebellion. 

Hark ! hark ! the door unbars ; some one approaches, 

I know not what new doom awaits me now. 

Enter the Duke. 

Duke. Canst look us in the fnce? 
Man. Through the dim light 
That sickly lives within my prison-house, 
I gaze on thee ; yea, were the brilliant sun 
Shedding his golden beams full on thy brow, 
Should not avoid thine eye. 

Duke. Is guilt so bold? 

Man. I never wronged thee : by my hoary hairs. 
And by my name, which spotless was till now ; 
Yea, by tlic love I bore and bear thoe still, 
Before high Heaven's all-searching eye, avouch 
That in intent or act, I never wronged thee- 

Duke. Not in reality — thy hireling failed. 

Man. Failed ! what failed ? 

Duke. Yes! and Conradine still lives. 

Man. Upon my knees, protecting powers, 1 thank thee! 



Scene IV. GIORDANO. 77 

Now will my innocence be proved, for lie 

Can speak how I have loved him, and can tell 

That I have doted on him as my son. 

O, thanks, kind Heaven ! for now indeed, there's hope, 

I may not in my wintry age descend 

Into the grave, stained with a traitor's name. 

Where is he now ? 

Duke. Alas ! we cannot say ; 
To learn from thee, has been our errand hither. 

Man. From me ! what do I know ? I'm ignorant. 

Duke. Thou know'st he scarcely had returned from war, 
(Ere he could turn a thought to thee, or else,) 
When he set out to see his father die, — 
For such a hapless message was received — 
And thither bound, he was in Arno's vale 
This day attacked by some rebellious hand : 
Thank Heaven ! he 'scaped, although his servant fell. 

Ma;?. Returned from war! attacked in Arno's vale ! 
Mysterious all! I do not comprehend. 

Duke. Why did ye this? 

Man. It was no act of mme. 
I am amazed ! Think, what converge had I, 
Or could have had, with villains, here pent up ? 
As I am guiltless of the last attempt. 
So was I also of the first, my liege. 



7& GIORDANO. Act IT. 

Duke. lAside.l Is this the face of guilt? it cannot be! 
If thou didst not, who could have been so base ? 

3Ia7i. That I am guiltless, I again aver, 
But who is guilty, there's no certain proof: 
Yet, look to my accuser. 

Duke. Ha ! what's this ? 

Man. Yes, look to him. 

Duke. What ! know'st thou aught ? Speak out. 

Man. I say no more. 

Duke. Unfold thy heart before us. 

Man. 'Tis ever yours, yet nothing certain knows ; 
But I have watched him with a lynx-eye gaze. 
And read his thoughts, and therefore do suspect. 

Duke. Tush, tush! suspicion merely : not one charge 
Canst bring against his sun-encircled name ? 
Think'st that aspersing him, will prove thee guiltless ? 

Man. I shall say nothing further of myself ; 
I am adjudged guilty by my peers. 
And quietly yield unto my hapless fate. 

Duke. lAside.'] More, and still more, our heart inclines to 
him ; 
Each word and look assures us he is wronged. 
We are resolved. My ancient friend. 

Man. My sire ! 

Duke. Doubts have this day so settled on our mind, 



Scene IV. GIORDANO. 79 

That we believe tliou inayst be innocent : 
On one condition, therefore, we will ope 
Thy dungeon bars. 

Man. Sire, what is this ! name it. 

Duke. That thou before the Senate will appear, 
To establish there, not plead, thy innocence, 
Which, if thou fail to do, thy doom is death. 

Mail. Is there a chance that I may yet be free, 
And stand acquitted of this horrid crime ? 
To live to sec that day, were life enough ! 

Duke. Dost thou consent ? 

Man. With thanks and gladness, sire. 

Duke. Jailer, attend ! 

Man. Bless thee, my reverend monarch ! 

Enter a Jailer. 

Duke. Strike off his fetters. Now the door is o[ieM. 

Jailer. This makes me glad. 

Duke. Wherefore? 

Jailer. If my liege permit, 
Before thee and Giordano I will speak. 

Man. Now hope more brightly smiles. 

Duke. Villain, beware ! 
Yet we'll confront thee with our ministero 



80 GIORDANO. Act IV. 

Thy life's in danger, if thy words be false. 
Doubts gather thicker o'er us. Now, lead on. 

[Exeunt. 



SCENE V. The Palace. Enter Giordano. 

Gior. Although 1 feel the hour of carnage near, 
My friend's bold challenge and my great designs, 
O'ertop all else. Ambition reigns supreme, 
And rallies round its citadel, the heart, 
The sternest passions, all in fierce array. 
I am not what I was ; my nature's changed, 
And every feeling that once held control, 
Yields to my dream of glory. What is this ? 
Who is't comes liither ! Hah ! Yea, let them come. 

Enter the DuKE and Man mi. 

Duke. My friend, with cheek unblanched, with shrinkless 
eye, 
With voice unfaltering, and in look sincere, 
1 pray thee answer us : believ'st him guilty ? 

Gior. Your grace amazes me; this lawless act, 



Scene V. GIORDANO. 81 

So far o'ersteps the prudence of thy life, 
I know not how to answer. Why is this.'' 

3Ian. My liege, look on him: watch his eye and lip, 
They, not amazement show, but guilt. 

Duke. Think'st so! 

Gior. Why has the traitor's dungeon been unbarred ? 
I hope thou'rt wise, as thou wcrt in thy prime. 

Duke. Strange doubts have lately gathered o'er our mind ; 
Yet we have loved thee, almost love thee still, 
And, loving, doubt thy loyalty and truth. 
Better to live in knowledge, good or ill. 
Than have a something pendant o'er our head 
We know not of, which tortures us with fear. 

Gio7\ I know not what thy strange proceedings mean. 

Duke. Believ'st him guilty.^ 

Gio7: Yes, my liege, I do. 

Man. Of treason? 

Gior. Ay! the Senate was convinced. 

Man. As I shall answer at the judginent seat, 
And as this hour He knows — I'm innocent. 

Gior. Denying once, 'tis virtue still to swear. 

Duke. Bring back thy proofs, we'll hear them all again. 

Gior. I will not take a monstrous course like this, 
Beyond all law or custom. Bear him back. 

Man. Prithee, my liege, command the jailer hither. 

n 



82 . GIORDANO. Act IV. 

Gior. [Aside.] I'll boldly stand this pass; the hour's at hand, 
When I shall be the lord of all the realm ; 
Then what have I to fear ? I will bear up: 
To live in fear, is scarcely to exist. 

Ditke. .failcr, attend ! 

Gior. What ! ha ! the craven slave ! 

Enter Ihc Jailer. 

Duke. Dost still assert his ^nilt r 

Gior. I only spoke 
The damning proofs that swayed the Senate's mind, 
Which Neri knew, and countless others proved. 

Duke. Speak what thou know'st. 

Jailer. Maniri scarcely was 
Intrusted to my charge, till by Giordano — 

Gior. Liar ! 

Jailer. A purse of gold was proflered me — 

Gior. Slave, reptile, babbler, in thy falsehood die ! 

[Stabs /Ae Jailer. 

Duke. This befoie our face ! 

Gior. Ay ! before the face 
Of greater power than thine — of Heaven itself! 

Duke. Wherefore, rash man, didst thou this bloody deed.'* 

Gior. The perjured fool now silent on the earth, 



Scene V. G I O R D A N O . 83 

Shoultl ne'er have raised his front erect to Heaven, 
But slept forever in ignoble dust. 

Duke. Ho there ! within ! a guard — a guard ! 

Enter an Officer, and Soldier;?. 

Seize him ! 

Gior. Stand back, ye coward slaves, and bow to nie, 
Not to that dotard — see, he is insane ; 
He's slain the jailer, and that traitor freed. 
And now would also murder me. Stand back! 
Look to 3Ianiri well ; ye, to the Senate 
Shall answer for his safety with your lives! 
Stand back, I say ; who dares approach me dies. [Exit. 

Duke. Disloyal knaves, obey ! 

Man. Treason, treason ! 

[^Scene closes. 



ACT V. 

SCENE I. The Palace. A flourish. Enter the Duke, 
Maniki, and Cavilido, attended. 

Duke. It was an act of madness, or of guilt. 

Cav. 1 must confess, it savors most of guilt. 

Duke. Did we not awe the false guards with a look ? 
Such is the gaze of majesty ! My friend. 
We're almost sure that thou art much abused. 

Man. I am indeed ; would thou, my liege, wert sure. 

Cav. My heart believes thee guiltless, but the proof 
Was with such skill arrayed, and seemed so true, 
It ruled all feeling, and pronounced thy doom. 

3Ian. I censure none — not thee. 

Duke. To stab the jailer. 
And chide us with disloyal words, and false ! 
We never can forget this, nor forgive. 

Cav. 1 feared Giordano, and opposed his rise, 
For secret doubts were fretting in my mind, 
Yet none that now I feel. 



Scene I. GIORDANO. 85 

Duke. Thou coiinselletlst wisely : 
But his exploits had so engaged our hearty 
Our judgment was bewildered. 

Cat. Say not so, 
Nor turn reproachful glances on the past ; 
But only think, my liege, of coming danger. 

Duke. Thou must be innocent. Where tarry all ? 

Enter Colonni. 

What news, my son ? Hast thou discovered aught ? 

Col. A feeling strange prevails throughout the city ; 
Some move with stealthy step, and speak by signs ; 
Some whisper and start back, as if observed ; 
While others pale or redden, as they gaze 
Upon the firmament, and watch the stars 
Twinkling their fires as darkness thickens round. 
Old men appear as if distressed in thought, 
And to inquiring looks, show doubt and fear. 
Women address a prayer to Heaven, and sigh, 
Then hug their infants closer to their breasts ; 
While children, seeing them, do weep and tremble. 

Duke. What does 't portend ? 

Car. It bodes a coming evil — 
A fearful pause ere the tornado wakes. 



86 GIORDANO. Act V. 

Duke. Each moment brings alarm. 

Col. Yea, in the palace 
None seem as wont, but each appears to wear 
A look of mystery. I sought for Neri, 
That, by his aid, the surer I might move — 
I found him not, and none will speak of him. 

Duke. Where is the tainted one .'' 

Col. Of him no trace 
Has been discovered since the monstrous act ; 
Which done, my sire, lie hurried from the palace. 

Cav. There is some danger near. 

Duke. Treble the guards, 
And with despatch send sentinels abroad ; 
Command each one to keep a watchful eye. 
And all they do observe, report to us. \_Exit CoLONNI. 

Man. Did Neri not advance the strongest proof.'* 

Cav. He did: my liege, that, joined with present fears, 
Adds doubt to doubt. 

Duke. It does. Question his wife, 
And if she speak not, give her to the rack : 
Let torture force her guilty tlioughts to liglit. 

\_Exit an Attendant. 
Proclaim a ricii reward to him who brings 
Assurance of our doubts. [^Exil another Attendant. 

How dost thou feel f 



Seem: IL GIORDANO. 87 

Mem. My chains, not on the body now, but niind, 
Make scarce a feather's poise. 

Re-enter Colonni. 

t 

Duke. What new report ? 

Col. One has returned, who gives it as behef, 
That armed men suspiciously convene 
Within Giordano's house. 

Duke. Can this be so ! 
Then 'tis no time to talk— Come, follow us. [^Exeiini. 



SCENE IT. A t^ircel. Enter Giordano. 

Gior. Now is the crisis near : my heart is firm, 
And at the dawn I'll wear supreme command. 
But if I fail ! — what then will be my fate ? 
— To overleap the rugged height of time, 
Into thy shoreless sea, eternity ! 
Fleetly as speeds the demon of the storm. 
When, mounted on his desolating car, 
He lashes the whirlwind. The heartless slave 
Who spurned my gold, now trembles 'fore his doom 
That, and its sequent, j)rove revealment near. 
But wrest nor hope, nor daring from this soul. 



88 GIORDANO. Act V 



Enter Neri. 

Are all prepared? Stands every one resolved? 

Neri. Thirsting like famished tigers for their prey. 

Gior. Soon shall they clutch it. I've no pause to tell 
The deed that's done. Hear thou, this instant may 
Unto the world voice out our great emprise. 

Neri. What! how is this, my lord ? 

Gior. No matter now : 
Be dauntless as I am. 

Neri. Fear not my heart ! 
It hummers for ihc festival of blood. 

Gior. Lose not a moment, summon from my house 
Unto the palace-court, my valiant friends — 
The signal sound, to stir the city up. 
And speed a courier to the camp. Tell all, 
The glorious harvest's ripe, and they, (he reapers, 
Like sturdy serfs, must use the sickle well, 
And garner too. 

Neri. Thou art thyself, my lord. 
And greatness beckons thee. {Exit. 

Gior. Away! Now like 
The forest's king, when first he gorges blood, 
I madly thirst for more — in it I'll glut. 



Scene III. GIORDANO. 89 

With hand of iron, I'll seize the golden crown, 

And in as firm a grasp will ever hold it. 

Ha ! now alarm hath waked throughout the palace, 

And in fit time to gaze upon my deeds. 

Louder it sounds ! Ambition, from thy throne, 

(That 'hove the Apennines is pedestaled, 

Higher than is their summit from the base,) 

Smile on my great intent. Hah ! let it rage. 

Now to the strife : to all opposers, death ! [Exit. 



SCENE HI. The Palace. Alarms. Enter the Duke, 
Maniri, and Cavilido, attended, and Colonni, ojyposite. 

Col. Treason, treason ! our fears are all confirmed, 
And foul rebellion terrifies the realm. 

Duke. What ! how discovered ? speak ! 

Col. She has confessed, 
And told a history of atrocious guilt. 

Cav. Merciful powers ! 

Duke. Thou art acquitted now ; 
Thy titles, power and love, are all restored. 
Sound the alarm, and rouse each loyal heart 
Against the rebel knaves. [Exit an Attendant. 

Man. Justice is mine; 

12 



90 GIORDANO. Act V. 

And now my innocence will be inscribed 

Upon my country's archives. Bless thee, liege. 

Protect him, Heaven, and quell the coming storm. 

Cav. This is a fearful night ! 

Duke. What hast thou heard ? 

Col. I cannot speak, how one I dearly prized, 
Has friendship, love, and loyalty belied. 
Here comes my sister, she can tell thee all. 

Enter Imelda. 

Duke. My daughter, speak ! 

Imel. All, Bella has confessed ; 
And 'tis enough to make the stoutest quail. 
Protect me, sire ; where shall I hide my fears ? 

Duke. Quick, tell us all thou'st heard. 

hnel. Urged on by Ncri, 
Giordano aims against thy life and throne ; 
Yea, all are doomed to swell the general wreck. 

Man. Said I not so ! 

Duke. Henceforth Pll never trust 
The looks, or words, or actions of mankind — 
The treason and the traitor vex our heart. 
Wears this rebellion a determined front f 

Imel. Ay, fearful numbers round his standard flock, 



Scene III. GIORDANO. 91 

And all his motions are with skill arranged. 

Duke. Out, out, my son, and arm the royal guard, 
And rouse each spirit up, to boldly meet 
The dread emergency. 

Col. 'Tis done, my sire. lExit. 

Imcl. Thou wert abused. 

Man. Spoke she of me ? 

Imcl. The deed 
For which thou sufFeredst, was the villain's act. 

Duke. How we have been deceived ! What is their hour? 

Imel. 3Iidnight. 

Cav. So near ! Time's never-tiring tread 
Hath almost turned, my liege, the night to morning. 

Duke. Can such things be ? They do amaze us much. 

Imel. Father, what shall I do ? My heart's approved 
May be in danger still. 

Duke. Fear not, my child ; 
These joyous shouts speak his return. He comes! 

Enter Conradine. 

Conrad. My love ! my liege, and friends ! how fares the state ? 
Duke. Treason most foul, and sacrilegious murder, 
Are the ascendants of the time. 
Conrad. Ha, so! 



92 GIORDANO. Act V. 

It was a forgery most foul : my sire 
Is hale and well. The tale of my decease, 
Despatched my brother onward to the city ; 
Upon the road we met, in great surprise. 

J?nel. O, thou art safe ! 

Conrad. Strange thoughts perplexed rae then, 
And fearing more than 1 dared think upon, 
I hurried hither, and find all confirmed. 

Duke. O much abused and most loyal friend ! 
Thou hadst no aims against his life — 'twas false — 
Yes, it was false as hell : forgive, forgive. 

Conrad. Thou art no foe of mine. I'll tell the one 
Who dares accuse thee, to his teeth, he lies — 
My foster father, ever fond and kind ! 

Ma)i. I am, I am, indeed! 

Duke. We have no time 
To lose in idle disquisition now. 
Retire, my child, for in such rebel times, 
We all must buckle resolution on. 
Retire, my love, nor risk thy precious life. 
Where thou canst do no service. \_Exit Imelda. 

Come, despatch ! 

Conrad. This is the time for energy and strength. 

Man. My aged limbs will now renew their youth ; 
Give me a sword, my liege, and I will prove 
As true a son as Florence ever bore. 



Scene III. GIORDANO. 93 

Biikc. Be this one thine. May glory cro\vn thy deeds. 

[Exit Maniri. 
Ring the alarm ! the utmost must be done. 
My child says little, but she deeply feels : 
It is no time to talk of nuptials now. 

Conrad. Revenge, revenge alone pervades my heart. 

Cav. The state alone engrosses all my thoughts. 

Re-enter Colonni. 

Col. The city is in arms, and flambeaux glare 
In every street. The fearful storm is up. 
Traitors are rushing to the palace-court, 
And every omen speaks a bloody fray. 
Your aged servant, lately freed from thrall. 
Achieves more wonders with his silver tongue. 
Than I believed was in the power of words. 
He has already armed a powerful band. 
And thousands, pre-disposed to foul rebellion, 
Are the most loyal subjects in the realm. 

Duke. We'll meet them manfully ; ourself will lead 
The royal troops, and rout the rebel fools. 

Conrad. My liege, command, we will defend thy throne. 

DuJcc. No longer parley: for the onset, arm ! 

[Exeiint. 



94 GIORDANO. Ad V. 



SCENE IV. The Palace Court. Alarms. Enter Neri, 
Cosmo, Conspirators, and Citizens. 

Neri. I feel as all were o'er and all were well ; 
If not, 'twill be no fault of mine — for now 
Revenge, and hate for former wrongs arise, 
With hydra heads, to wither and destroy. 
There comes he, like the lion from his lair. 

Enter Giordano. 

Gior. The hour's arrived : prepare for the assault ; 
Our glorious enterprise is now revealed, 
And willing slaves are armed to beat us back. 

Cosmo. The answer flashes on my sword's keen edge. 

Gior. For freedom boldly strike. 

Neri. Our souls are roused, 
A strength immortal now directs each arm, 
And every spirit here is mad for blood. 

Gior. Ay, blood ! upon a sea we'll sail. Be like 
The torrent rushing from the mountain brow, 
Which nothing can resist — like it dash on. 
And carry death and havoc in your course. 



Scene IV. GIORDANO. 95 

Neri. He is your liege ; now let all kneel to him. 

Omnes. Long live Giordano ! Duke of Florence, hail ! 

Gior. This is no time for idle homage, friends; 
Arise, arise, around my banner flock, 
And prove your love and fealty with your swords. 

Alarms. Enter the Ducal Party, opposite, led on hy the 
Duke, Maniri, Colonni, Conradine, and Cavilido. 

They come ! advance ! for liberty or death ! 

Col. Down with the traitors. 

Gior. Thoughtless, prating fool, 
Thy doom is near ; yea, vengeance waits on all. 

Duke. Ye discontented rabble, who obey 
A lawless leader, hear me, and spare blood. 

Gior. My brave hearts, on ! advance ! for freedom strike. 
Let these sharp weapons be your eloquence. 

[Alarms. A fgJU. Giordano atid his 2)ar/y 
are repulsed. 



SCENE V. A Street. Several Soldiers flying. 
Enter Neri. 

Neri. Fear you the contest, in this peril shrink! 



96 GIORDANO. Act V. 

What, though the tide against us turns, will you, 

Borne by the current, thus desert the field? 

Though you should crouch as slaves, like cowards fly, 

I will alone — alone, defy them still. 

Yea, while ray arm hath strength to wield this weapon, 

I will fight on. I will not bow the neck, 

In suppliancc low, before this dotard Duke, 

But die, or conquer, as a freeman should. 

Ah ! now I see you're men : Then on with me. [Exeunt. 

Alarms. A jiause, then Enter Conradine. 

Conrad. I will have wide revenge ! see, his legions fly ! 
Where is the master fiend ? Would I miijht meet him. 

[Exit. 



SCENE VI. The Palace Court. Alarms— a pause. 
Enter Giordano. 

Gior. My cause is hopeless, but my heart is strong, 
And I will brave them to the last. Strike on ! 
Where is my evil star! Come, viper, come! 
I'll fight amid the hottest of the fray. 
What now ? 



Scene VI . GIORDANO. 97 



Enter an OfficeRo 

Offi. All's lost, all's lost. 

Gior. Thou coward fool, 
Were all like thee, we surely were undone ; 
Hence to the strife, else I will cleave thee, slave, [Exit Offi. 
Yea, e'en in this extremity of ill, 
I will not play the scorpion, but I'll fight 
Though death before me yawns. Villain, speak out. 

Enter an Officer. 

Offi. My lord, not e'en a gleam of hope remains ; 
The lion-hearted in a rally fell, 
Buried mid countless heaps of daring friends, 

Gior. Still 1 am unsubdued ! I cannot weep thcc ! 
Like Gorgon's blood, thine falls into the earth ; 
From every drop shall start an armed man. 
To wreak wide vengeance on this royal brood. 
I'll never yield. 

Offi. Hear me, my noble lord: 
What will thy arm against a host avail ^ 
At yonder turn, some chosen friends await. 
To give thee escort hence. , 

13 



93 GIORDANO. Ad Y. 

Gior. What ! bid me flee ? 
Never : this is my throne or sepulchre. 
Away! [Exit Officer. 

Enter CONRADINE. 

Ah ! have we met ! I thank thee, Heaven ; 
I'm satisfied ! 

Conrad. Can face so foul as thine 
Look on the day? Is light not dazzling to thee.'' 
Is not the air too pure for such a fiend ^ 

Gior. Thou blaster of my hopes ! I have no words : 
Hark, hark ! thy death knell tolls. I may not live, 
But thou shalt not exist to triumph o'er me. 

Conrad. Hast not enough of guilt upon thy soul.^ 
Then yield thee, rebel, to thy country's law. 

Gior. Dastard ! darest use such taunting phrase to me ^ 
If thou'rt a man, nay, if thou art and more. 
Thy hour is come, — for I, myself, am here. 
Prepare! Come on ! [They fight. 

Enter Imelda. 

Imel. Hold, hold! Be duke, be king, 
Be any thing, but O ! in mercy spare him. 



Scene VL GIORDANO. 99 

Gior. Away, vile woman ! hence, I say, begone ! 
Else will a direr fate than his be thine. 

Conrad. Peace, peace, my love ; I will aven<^e thy wrongs. 

Gior. Thou shalt not 'scaj3e, nor shalt thou parley more ; 
Thy friends approach — my heart thirsts for thy blood. 

Conrad. That hapless one has as an angel come. 
To give assurance that the just will conquer. 
A giant's power is in this arm. Traitor ! 

Gior. Prepare ! my sword shall drink thy blood, and hers. 
[Alarms. They fight. Giokdai^o falls. 

Conrad. I will protect thee, love: behold the traitor. 
Cheer up ; thou wilt. 

Imel. Thou art alive ! O thanks ! 

Conrad. Hark, hark! the cry is victory! 

Imel. But Bella 
Hears it not; for her own traitress hand 
Hath paid her great account. 

Enter the Duke, Cavilido, Maniri, Colonni, and 
Attendants. 

Duke. We are victorious ! 
To thee, brave friend, we owe the great result, 
This, thy reward, and live long years of bliss. 

Gior. Ay, blisters ! live ; and be this world thy hell, 



100 GIORDANO. ActV. 

A burning hell to all. Within thy veins 
May blood like lava course, an endless fire- 
May all thy joys connubial turn to pain, 
And give vile monsters birth : and may the crown 
Upon thy head, be as a scorching zone, 
To torture thee through ages. 

Imel. O! — horror! 

Gior. The furies come with a triumphal car. 
To bear me onward to the Ducal throne ! 
Hark ! millions hail me duke ! Gods ! what is this ? 

[Dies. 

Duke. Lo ! how ambition and unlawful pride 
Hath lost a stately bark. — Look where it lies, — 
Forced by the waves of passion's stormy sea, 
Upon the shoals of crime — a worthless wreck. 



The Curtain falls. 



EPILOGUE. 

BY PROSPER M. WETMORE. 

SPOKEN nt MRS. HIIiSON. 

[Spoken at the Wing.'\ 

Na¥ — Mr. Barry — 'tis indeed too hard, 
Thus late to send me forth, to please the bard ; 
I do not like an Epilogue — the play 
Is long enough — well, if I must obey, 
I'll try. 

[Enters.] 

The Author's fate I've come to ask — 
A five-act Tragedy's a fearful task — 
Glad plaudits cheer the lucky wight who wins, 
But, failing, all the town will count his sins. 
What say ye then? — I hope the question's clear. 
Now pray don't smile — I'm looking for a tear. 
Ah ! yes, on many a blooming cheek I trace 
The pearly drop that gems the speaking face. 
Nay, blush not, ye, of manhood's sterner heart, 
Nor shame to own the influence of our art : 
No greener wreath will circle round your name, 
Than feeling twines, and sympathy may claim. 

The plot — how like you that? is't good or ill?— 
The denouement must show the master skill — 
The characters — well drawn ? the interest — strong ? 
The time — nor short for action, nor too long? 



102 

The incidents, arranged with cunning hand, 
To hold attention breathless at command ? 
On all of these, in judgment you must sit, 
And try — the poet's strength, or lack of wit. 
Before the bar of taste we bring our cause. 
And I'm retained to plead for your applause. 

Poetic justice, sure the bard hath shown — 
The villain dies, his plots are overthrown ; 
The lady lives — the lover too survives — 
We are not prodigal of tragic lives. 
Critics may deem this faulty — 'tis to you, 
Ye kindly fair, for pardon we must sue. 
Ye would not see the fond confiding maid, 
By ruthless violence in marble laid, 
Nor wish that manly heart should cease to beat, 
To make the catalogue of deaths complete ; 
No — rather will we dare the critic's fiat. 
Than needlessly disturb your bosom's quiet. 
Besides, you know, if death were thus in vogue, 
I could'nt come to speak the Epilogue. 
— Between us. don't believe in tragic sorrow — 
The dead will all be v/ell enough to-morrow. 

Friends of the drama, for the drama's weal — 
With hands to speak how well j^our hearts can fccl- 
Our author asks for your approving voice ; 
Your smiles can bid his anxious heart rejoice. 
No fame-nursed laurels bloom upon his brow ; 
His first appeal is made for favor now. 
Then, patrons — shall I say our cause is Avon ? 
I see the verdict's right — my plea is done. 



NEW-YOEK ; 

CLAYTON a VAN NORDEN, PRINTERS, 
No- 49 VViiliam-strcet. 




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